When winter comes, for some reason, I start thinking about summer.
That stifling feeling of high heat and humidity.
Even though I hated it so much at the time,
when I recall it in the crisp winter air, I find myself missing it a little.
By the way, I like summer, but
it's not the heat or humidity itself that I like.
If anything, I think I like the "atmosphere" or "mood" of summer.
Lately, I've been painting by the window, but
the cold winter air gradually numbs my hands and feet.
When I feel my thoughts becoming sluggish at such times,
I start wanting to do something that allows me to enjoy the season.
For example, going to drink a Christmas-limited cafe menu item.
It's usually something like that, but
"something like that" is the best.